Insufficent Changes
by The Angel of Clarity
Summary: The War of Five Kings is drawing to a close and the King in the North is preparing for one last strike against the Lannisters. But King Robb is not alone, by his side is the bastard son of the late King Robert. What does that mean for Arya Stark?
1. Chapter 1

The crown dug into her head, its weight an uncomfortable reminder to her neck. A reminder of what she had suffered woven together from beautiful metals with delicate attention. Any other girl in the Seven Kingdoms would have killed for such an adornment and the station that it came with but Arya Stark had accepted the honour grudgingly.

It had taken many years for Arya to realise that it had all been a game. Her father's death and its consequences had been used by many for their own purposes when, at the time, she had only seen her grief and loss. Now, she had committed herself to playing the accursed game for the rest of her life.

Her crown was golden, though not made of gold to her knowledge, but rather an odd metal whose name she had already forgotten due to her lack of interest. It was magnificent to be sure, with twisted barbs swirling and inching around her head. They were supposed to resemble antlers but Arya could not see the similarity, if it did exist. She was a wolf anyway. Not a stag and certainly not a doe.

"My Queen?" One of her handmaidens was talking to her, asking her a question. Arya ignored them most of the time. She found them uninteresting as they only seemed to tell her how lucky she was.

"What?" she asked the girl, trying to keep her tone indifferent rather that peevish. Her behaviour was now examined by everyone around her. She knew that her actions would reflect badly on Gendry, who could not afford to look weak.

"It is time for the men to leave, Your Grace." The girl looked meek and obedient but in reality she was just dull. Arya nodded absently, trying her best to look commanding and regal when she was really just worried.

She walked out of the tent, carefully making sure she didn't trip over her long skirts. Arya still retained her aversion to anything that would classify her as a lady but there was precious little else to wear at the encampment and probably more comfortable than anything else the men were wearing. However, after pretending to be a boy, Arya found that she was no longer so opposed to dressing like a lady occasionally; she was reminded of her mother and sister whenever she did.

There was so much movement around her that it was hard to make sense of everything. Men were arming themselves, women were packing up camp and there was a general rush to everyone she saw. The air smelled heavily of smoke and fires being put out, along with the stench that so many people accumulated. Sound filled her ears, so much that she could not distinguish between individual noises unless she concentrated.

Everyone stopped what they were doing when they saw her. Arya was not accustomed to the bowing or the titles or the crown or the dresses or the servants or anything. She wanted to scream at them all, show them how ferocious she really was but instead she just smiled and walked past as gracefully as she was able.

It was difficult for Arya to think of how many men would die over the course of the next few weeks. Most she did not know and though their deaths would sadden her, she was more concerned about the men that she could not bear to lose, her brother, her uncle and her husband.

Arya could remember when she had found what remained of the Starks. Everything had then begun to change for her. It had been a long time ago, in its own way, a much simpler time.

_She had been reunited with what was left of her family after she had escaped from Harrenhal with Gendry and Hot Pie. The road had been rough. She had worried many times that they would starve but they had survived somehow and arrived at Riverrun. They had been walking through the seemingly endless forest when her ears had picked up a sound she had never hoped to hear again – the howl of a direwolf._

_Her movements ceased and her breath shallowed as she wished for the repetition of such a call. Could it be Nymeria? Arya's senses returned all at once and her head began to ache. If she had been alone she would have hastened towards the sound and its source. But she was not alone. The two boys with her had no chance of remaining quiet enough to allow her to discover what she wanted to know. _

"_Did you hear that, Arry?" Hot Pie asked with a stupid expression on his face. Arya wanted to hit him but Gendry remained in between the two of them as a buffer against Arya's violence. The blacksmith apprentice knew her true identity as a Northern Princess and had followed her from Harrenhal, with a promise to see her safely to her brother in exchange for a nice forge of his own._

"_Of course I heard it, I have ears, don't I?" Some unidentified aspect of Hot Pie's personality demanded a harsh response. Despite their reluctant friendship the two had formed, Arya could not forget that the boy had tried to steal Needle. She doubted Hot Pie had forgiven her for breaking his nose in answer for his thievery. There was also the fact that Hot Pie was fat, lazy and a craven, all attributes that Arya despised._

"_What should we do then?" The Bull asked this time, probably to spare Hot Pie more of Arya's ire. Arya took a short moment to bask in how the two of them followed her. Her father was a great leader and her brother too. She was a Stark, even if she had to pretend otherwise, and the blood of the North flowed through her veins making her powerful and strong. She used that strength to make her decisions. _

"_I'm going to find whatever made that noise. The two of you can stay here if you're afraid." She knew that they would follow her now that their bravery had come into question. Boys were stupid like that, though she knew she was no better. Another reason why she was such a terrible lady, not at all like Sansa._

_The thought of her sister brought Arya back to the reality that she could be reunited with Nymeria within mere moments. Her feet couldn't carry her over the debris and fallen branches quickly enough. She couldn't feel anything but the hope rising quickly in her chest; flying as high as Arya could imagine and the young girl rejected the thought of how painful it would be if she was mistaken and there was nothing for her to find._

_She knew it wasn't Nymeria when another howl cut through the air. The difference between the cry of her wolf and the others was not something she could put into words. But a part of her knew that it wasn't Nymeria. Whatever had made the sound was probably just another average wolf that roamed near the trident, as wolves were wont to do as of late._

_Arya lost her will to stand and when she sank to her knees she lost her will not to cry. Gendry and Hot Pie caught up to her but she didn't care. They both seemed stunned to find her in such a state. They were unsure of how they should proceed, neither of them had ever seen Arya show any kind of weakness before and though Arya wanted to be strong again, the wall was broken and she could not stop her tears._

_Hot Pie looked at Gendry and Gendry looked at Arya. Carefully, he moved closer to her until he was crouched down near her as Hot Pie looked on, pretending to be somewhere else assuredly. _

"_It's not her," Arya wanted strength to be in her voice but instead she sounded weak, like a little, helpless girl. Gendry seemed to understand what had happened and what she had realised. He looked helpless himself, as if the sheer thought of comforting a crying girl was far beyond his capabilities._

"_Riverrun can't be far from here, we'll be there soon enough. Then you can find your family. Isn't that what you wanted?" His attempts to distract her were blatantly obvious but she appreciated the effort. Somehow, she managed to bring herself off the ground. But now every part of her body was aching and it felt like there was something heavy in her chest. _

_Arya took a deep breath and avoided meeting anyone's eyes. She couldn't explain herself to Hot Pie; he didn't know who she really was. So how could she tell him that she missed her pet direwolf? She missed her brother Jon, because she never had to explain anything to him. He always just knew how she was feeling and how to make her feel better when she was sad. She missed her father, who would secretly encourage her to pursue what she loved even if it didn't match up with what he wanted her to be. _

_Her father who had been murdered in front of her._

_The howling started again, accompanied by other noises, the rustling of leaves, the snapping of twigs and the yelling of voices. All the signs that men were approaching. _

_Arya closed her eyes and wished that she could give up, reveal herself to whoever these men were and deal with whatever consequences there were to be had. But she was a Stark of Winterfell, sister to the King in the North and she would not give up while there was breath in her body to fight. She had already lost herself once and she would not stomach it again._

_They moved as quickly as they were able but it was not fast enough for them to escape as far away as Arya would have liked. Their refuge was a giant tree with roots twice the size of Gendry, even. It reminded her of her hiding place when she was forced to shoo Nymeria away. She was afraid, though she hoped that wasn't obvious to the other two._

_ She could hear the panting coming from Hot Pie and she thought that he must have pissed himself again, just like he had at Harrenhal. Gendry stood beside her, barely moving a muscle but she knew he was also afraid. Arya remembered what Syrio had taught her, fear cuts deeper than swords, and she tried to be brave like her father._

"_To me! Hurry, we'll lose him!" That voice… Arya would know that voice anywhere. It was the voice who had teased good-heartedly when her stitches were crooked. It was the voice that had cheered for her when she had managed to shoot her first target. It was the voice that had comforted her when they had gone to visit the crypts where their family rested. It was the voice that whispered scary stories to her when Old Nan didn't want to. It was the voice of her brother._

"_Robb?" she whispered, too quiet for the others to hear her. Arya's legs moved of her own accord, trying to get a better look so she could confirm that it was indeed him. Gendry attempted to pull her back into the shadows but she was a water dancer and much faster than the blacksmith._

_Before she had the chance to do anything someone, likely a man travelling with her brother, yelled out._

"_What have we here? A forest sprite here to present herself to our King? Or is it a smelly bandit, here to distract us while her companions try to relieve us of our possessions?" His laughter was joined by the rest of the men including the one she believed to be her brother who had finally turned around to look at her._

_Arya had not seen Robb since she had left Winterfell. So much had happened since they parted and her brother had without a doubt, changed just as much as she had. His beard had grown out again, he looked taller (though it was hard to be certain for he remained on horseback) and worry lines had etched themselves deeply into his young, handsome face. But so much of him remained familiar; his blue, Tully eyes and the confidence in which he held himself. He was Robb and he was her brother._

_However he did not appear to be having the same recognition as Arya. Then again he was a Lord turned into a King and she was a Lord's daughter turned into an orphan boy. She was ashamed of the way she looked shabby and filthy. Brother or no, Robb was a King now and he deserved a sister who at least looked like a girl._

_Gendry and Hot Pie had come out from the tree but they still remained hidden. The men hadn't noticed them but they were there in case things went bad and she needed their help. They didn't know what was going on or what the outcome would be. The only thing they understood was that Arya, usually the essence of caution, had revealed them to a band of unknown riders._

_When all seemed lost, as though her brother would not know her and send her away, an unlikely saviour appeared. To anyone else he would have been incredibly menacing but not to Arya. Even the other men seemed apprehensive about the giant direwolf being so close to them. Grey Wind was a shadowy grey, as his name would suggest and his yellow eyes reminded Arya of Nymeria. He must have recognised her scent for he trotted towards her until he stood so close she could see the little puffs of mist created by the wolf's breath. He looked at her for a moment before coming forward even closer and licking her fingers tenderly. _

_No one moved. No one breathed. No one could really believe the scene that was happening before them. _

_Robb snapped out of it first, dismounting from his horse quickly and with a grace Arya envied. He strode towards her with purpose clear on his face before stopping and looking at her deeply. Grey Wind ceased his ministrations and returned to his master's side. Arya didn't know whether or not Robb knew her to be his sister so she did the only thing she could think of._

_She sank to her knees in a bow even though the ground was cold and the wetness spread through the fabric. "I am yours, Your Grace," she said the words clear, and loud enough for everyone to hear. _

"_NO!" He shouted at her sharply before grabbing her elbow and pulling her up so she was facing him again. "You do not bow to me." Then they were both crying and embracing and swearing never to let the other go ever again. _

_Arya felt happier than she had been ever since she left Winterfell. She was finally safe with her family. They would protect her and she would protect them. They were a pack of wolves and they would stick together._

Everything was different now.

It had been three years since that day and Arya had grown up to a certain degree. Over the next few weeks it seemed like she was set to do a fair deal more maturing.

From a distance she could see her mother. Lady Catelyn's once beautifully vibrant auburn hair was growing duller by the day and it was said that she aged three years faster than a normal woman. Arya knew that her mother had never recovered fully from her father's death and the thought of losing Robb chilled her to the bone. Her mother was not capable of seeing her children as anything other than who they used to be before the war.

As a child Arya had not been close to her mother. She was not the little lady she should have been and she was far too close to her bastard brother. Her attire was never skirts or dresses and she had always been violent and rude. All in all she was the exact opposite of what Lady Catelyn thought her daughter should be. Now they were practically inseparable.

They greeted each other with a warm embrace. Arya clung onto her mother for just a moment longer than what was normal, trying to convey her unease. Reluctantly she pulled away and smiled to the best of her ability. The smile was returned with an understanding one, in only the way that a mother could.

"Sweetling, you look tired. Did you not sleep well?" Arya was comforted by her mother's care even though it was misplaced. It occurred to Arya that after today they would have something else in common with one another. As of late Arya was coming to understand her mother in a way she had never been able to before.

"I'll sleep better when this is all over and we know our futures more certainly. How are the men faring?" Arya's weariness shone through her words as well as her distaste for what she was about to do.

"Men love war. It gives them a chance to prove themselves and the allure of the battle exists within them all. They are happy now, to be sure, sad to leave their families but content with what they must do. The nervousness will set in when they get closer to Kings Landing. Men will do as they have always done, Arya and the ones who survive will be rewarded greatly. That's the only thing they are thinking of now."

"I never would have imagined this when father was murdered. I only thought of survival for so long and revenge, those were the things that kept me alive. Now it's a different kind of fight, one that I cannot take part in but I know that we are so close to our vengeance, mother. Soon, we will make all the Lannisters pay for what they have done and there is nothing in this world that will make me happier."

Catelyn smiled thinly at her daughter's exclamation. "You will not be saying that for much longer. A child changes you, Arya, in ways that you would never think possible. Not to mention that your child will be heir to a powerful Kingdom. We will never let go of our hatred but you have a long life with your family ahead of you. Don't ever take that for granted."

Arya's hands moved down towards her stomach where her unborn child rested. Very few people knew that she was with child and she wanted to keep it that way. It had only been two moons since she had discovered the news herself and she wasn't entire certain about how she was feeling about such a change. Gendry had been thrilled, of course, wanting to scream the news to everyone that would listen. He regained his senses when Arya knocked them into him, if the word got out she would be targeted by the Lannisters.

The two women walked together through the camp, carefully manoeuvring through the constant movement of those around them. They were camped close to Riverrun until the men began to march for Kings Landing. All the women of the court were required to ride with them a part of the way, for which Arya was grateful. Most of her family was going south and she wanted as much time with them as she was allowed. A part of her was upset that she was not permitted to fight with the men, for she had just as much reason to fight as they did but a mothering instinct would not let her put the life of her baby at risk, nor would anyone else for that matter.

Horses smelled unseemly no matter who was riding them and with the number of horses that were living with them the stench was unbelievable. There was so much crap that it was impossible to avoid all of it and Arya was grateful that she had access to more than one pair of boots. Most of the other people around her weren't so lucky but she supposed that it could not be avoided. When the war ended things would be better. Or at least that's what she hoped. The truth was the war had gone on for so long that Arya had almost forgotten what it was like to live in happy peace.

The men looked noble and brave, all dressed up in their armour and standing next to their mighty warhorses. Her brother and her husband were wearing their crowns, smiling and laughing, trying to encourage those around them and instil bravery in their troops. They were putting a valiant effort, but Arya knew the end was approaching, that the war would be over in a few short weeks and their fates would be decided. They would be Kings if they won and dead if they lost.

"Ah, there's my beautiful wife. Soon she shall be Queen of the South and the entire world will envy me for being wed to such an amazing woman." Gendry was smiling widely when he saw her, as he often did. He was always so open about his feelings and Arya so closed about hers that many thought their marriage was a pure political arrangement. The truth was that they loved each other very dearly though; Arya was not entirely comfortable showing affection in front of others, a problem Gendry did not seem to suffer.

"You too kind, my King. Once you have your throne I'm sure there will be many a young girl who would wish to be married to you and rule the Kingdom by your side." Arya hated being so formal with Gendry. Hated being so proper, but it was only an act for those around them. She sounded like Sansa. When the two were alone Arya was just as wild and inappropriate as she always had been (to the amusement of her husband and her brother and to the distress of her mother and the rest of the court).

"I think you've forgotten about your beloved older brother, Arya. Women everywhere would cast away their husbands for a chance to marry the handsome King of the North." Robb was grinning nearby, looking every part the proud King of the North. He came forward towards his little sister and snatched her crown off her head long enough for him to ruffle her hair and place it back on her head. Arya scowled at him and tried to fix her hair a little bit before punching him on the arm, hard enough to make him wince.

"Seven hells, Arya you are a devil. I don't know how you're going to survive being married to her," he said to Gendry who just laughed at the whole exchange. Her mother didn't look nearly as pleased at their behaviour in front of some of the important lords but Arya could tell that she enjoyed seeing her two remaining children playing with each other.

"How long until you leave?" Arya asked, looking at each of the men in turn.

The atmosphere shifted from playful to serious in less than a moment. Clearly the mere mention of the upcoming departure was enough to remind them all that this could be the last time some would see each other. Faces looked at each other solemnly, Arya noticing familiar soldiers for the first time, including her uncle. She didn't want to lose anyone else but she understood the nature of war. People were going to die and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

"Soon, my dear niece" her uncle Edmure replied when no one else wanted to.

Arya nodded sadly. She turned to her brother and Gendry and said, "The two of you will need to address the men before you leave. Do you know what you're going to say?" She had been wondering the words they would chose to inspire the men who would follow them into battle. Gendry had been quite secretive about it which only served to convince Arya that he had no idea what he was going to say.

"That's a surprise, little sister but rest assured it will be inspirational." Robb tried to bring the joking air back to the group but it didn't work as he wanted. Arya still smiled at his attempt though she was beginning to feel sick, due to the circumstances or the baby she did not know.

Suddenly there was a movement in the corner of her eye. It was a man that she did not recognise but then again there were too many in the combined armies of the North and The Southern Lords that had bent the knee to Gendry for Arya to know each and every soldier. This man young, younger than her brother and had a clean-shaven but otherwise unmemorable face. The most important thing about this man is that he moved with a sense of great urgency.

It was time.

Everything that happened after that was a blur to Arya. The men gathered together faster than she had ever thought possible and congregated at the assigned area, waiting for her family to appear.

Arya's nausea increased and she rushed through a crowd of people, with her mother's assistance, so she could empty her stomach. She despaired that her secret would soon be discovered but her mother comforted her, saying that no one would fault her for feeling unwell at the thought of saying goodbye to her husband. Arya thought she would feel better once her stomach could empty but she still felt sick even when there was nothing left for her to bring up.

It was the thought of losing. The thought of saying good bye to the people she cared about and not seeing them again chilled her to the bone. Arya kept seeing the face of her father and brothers behind her eyelids. She missed them with everything that she was and she wished she could have her last moments with them again. There was so much that she would say to them. Arya didn't know how she would survive if she lost anyone else.

She felt strong arms grab at her elbow, pulling her upright. At first she thought it was her mother but then the arms encompassed her and she knew it was Gendry. Arya grabbed on to him with all the strength she possessed because some part of her believed that she could keep him with her if only she squeezed hard enough. Gendry, for his part, clung on to her just as tightly as she did.

"Hush, little wolf. Everything will be alright you'll see. We outnumber them five to one and we've been planning this attack for over a year. Our spies with the Lannisters, good men, have assured us that they have no clue as to our intentions. It will be a fierce battle, yes but we are good fighters Arya. Maybe we're not as good as you are but I promise you that I will return and we'll be happy together."

Arya looked at him, really looked at him. She saw his bright, blue eyes and his shaggy black hair. He met her gaze and she blushed to think of what he was seeing. Her grey eyes were bloodshot and her hair was still messed from when Robb had played with it before. It was a well-known fact that she would never be as beautiful as her mother or her sister and even though no one referred to her as 'Arya Horseface' anymore she still hated it when people looked at her too intently. She would occasionally laugh bitterly to herself when she thought about her poor choice of occupation.

"Don't go, send someone else instead, and just… stay with me." Arya knew that it was selfish of her to ask this of him. He would want to say yes but there was no way that he could. She also knew that if she had been in his position there would be nothing that could convince her not to fight and Gendry was no different.

"I wish I could and you know that. But just imagine how it will feel to walk through the halls of the Red Keep, knowing that you have taken everything from the people who have done you wrong. And when we see each other again I will give you a great gift, one that you will dream about for years to come."

"And when I see you again I will give you the gift of an heir to be the pride of both our houses."

He pulled her towards him so that he could kiss her softly. She loved it when he held her like that, like he didn't care what happened with the war as long as they were together. The men surrounding them made catcalls and whistled but Arya couldn't bring herself to worry about that, not when her time left with her husband diminished with every passing moment. Instead she closed her eyes and focused on everything Gendry made her feel. It was a chaste kiss by her standards, but it made Arya feel everything. It was a promise that he would return and that their life together had not ended.

Arya's mood had been perilous of late due to the baby, an example of which was the ease of which tears sprung to her eyes. Normally she would be strong, like the North but now she sobbing like a child in front of an entire army of people she wanted to intimidate. Gendry didn't say anything, electing instead to just hold her close and stroke her hair.

Eventually her mother came and pulled her away from her husband. Catelyn held Arya in a grip of stone even against her daughter's struggling to break free. Gendry watched the scene with haunted eyes that showed a deep desire to stay with the woman he loved. Robb too wanted to go to his sister, but both men adhered to their duty. Men tried to turn their eyes away from the spectacle their Queen was making but it was impossible to ignore Arya's cries.

Gendry turned away swiftly, away from his wife. Without looking at Arya again he saddled his horse and totted towards Robb at the front line. It was time for the inspiring speech. Arya tried to quiet herself so she could hear their words. If either Robb or Gendry died then she wanted their last words to her to be properly magnificent.

"Listen to me you sorry sons of whores," Robb started. "This war has destroyed once proud people and places. Men have been murdered, women have been raped and homes have been wrecked. I did not ask to be a King but I will lead you into victory or into defeat if that's what the Gods have willed."

Robb was yelling now but it didn't detract from the importance behind his words.

"When they look back on this day, hundreds of years from now, they will tell the story of the thousands of brave men who fought for justice. The North remembers and WINTER IS COMING!"

The north men cheered loudly for their King. Robb grinned at his troops, the very ones who had given him his crown. When Arya looked at him she no longer saw her brother but a King who these men would follow to the death. Gendry sometimes revealed to Arya that he envied Robb's ease with his men. She tried to explain to him that his people loved him just as much as the North loved Robb but he didn't believe her.

Then it was Gendry's turn. To everyone else he appeared cool and collected but Arya knew that he was terrified. Sitting atop his horse with so many people dedicated to every word he had to say was obviously more frightening than the apprentice blacksmith, turned King had expected. It didn't take long for him to break his promise to himself and look back at Arya. Her eyes started back at him, pillars of strength that gave him the courage to speak.

"It wasn't that long ago that I was nothing more than a bastard blacksmith. The war and the actions of Kings mattered very little to me as long as I had a nice warm forge. Then I found out that my father was one of the very Kings I disregarded. We never know what tomorrow will bring us, whether we will be richer, poorer, alive or dead. Fighting against the Lannisters is the right thing to do because they have never known what it is like to have to fight to survive. Their King is the product of an unholy union between brother and sister with no real claim to the throne. He is their King because he believed he was entitled to whatever he wanted. We fight against him because he does not care about his subjects. That is what makes this the right thing to do."

Arya couldn't remember a time she had been prouder for Gendry.

The people cheered for Gendry even louder than for Robb though the King of the North did not begrudge him for it. Soon cries of 'Stark' and 'Baratheon' rang through the troops. The Kings smiled at each other before leading their horses towards the chosen path, starting the march for Kings Landing and for the future of the Seven Kingdoms.

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Hello everyone, I hope you liked this. I might write a few more chapters depending on the response I get. It probably won't be a very long story though. I would like to give a quick shout out to my best friend, Carra for proof reading this for me (she's the greatest person in the world).

I own nothing.

Please review!


	2. Chapter 2

Hi! I'm sorry it took a while for this chapter but I was going through some serious writers block. Just letting everyone know that I'm drawing from both the books and the show for this fic because it gives me more to work with. Thank you for all the reviews and follows and favourites, they really do mean the world to me. I hope you like this chapter too.

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Time could not seem to make up its mind. On one hand Arya's stomach swelled more with every day that passed and the young Queen was losing her ability to deny what everyone could see so easily. However each moment she spent separate from Gendry stretched endlessly in front of her.

Arya couldn't believe that she needed another person as much as she needed Gendry but she also couldn't believe the desperation she felt because he was so far away. She could hardly recognise herself, a person who was so different to who she used to be. The baby growing inside her also seemed to miss their father making her sicker than she had ever been and moodier than usual.

Her new status as Queen meant that people had to be polite to her no matter what mood she was in, something that she blessed on good days and cursed on bad ones. During her childhood there were plenty of people who were willing to reproach her when she had done something wrong; her parents, her brothers, her sister and half the castle of Winterfell. Now no one mentioned when she swore or when she dressed like a warrior rather than a lady. It made her miss her family even more than she thought possible.

She had been forbidden from leaving the castle of Riverrun; the chances of her being hurt were too great for anyone to bear and as a result Arya was becoming stifled. Her room had lost all intrigue and she was not allowed anywhere without her guards. While Arya knew the protection was necessary for both herself and the baby she still felt she was more than capable of fighting of any attacker. Not one person agreed with her and the guards remained.

With so much time on her hands Arya found herself gravitating towards the Godswood. The home of her father's Gods had never called to her beyond what was considered her duty and she was no better with the Seven Gods of her mother. On the road to Harrenhal she had prayed in her own way, calling for the blood of her enemies and the people who had done her wrong.

The Weirwood tree at Riverrun was not as impressive as the one from Winterfell. Starks had always worshipped the Old Gods stubbornly refusing to convert to the Seven. As a result The Godswood of Winterfell was more beautiful than any other Godswood in the Seven Kingdoms. Still Arya found peace when she went there, she felt closer to her father in among his Gods.

Arya sat beneath the tree, thrilled with the feeling of isolation from the world. If she closed her eyes she could pretend that everything had just been a terrible dream. She could pretend that the King had never come to Winterfell and her father had never died. She could pretend that she was still an innocent child. In her mind she saw the way such a life would have played out.

It was bittersweet. Arya wanted to regain what she had lost but she couldn't give up the things that she had.

"Nothing is the same, father. I hope you know that there is no way we can keep going properly without you. Mother has suffered the greatest, of course. She loved you so much and I hope that someday I have the courage to love my husband the way she loves you. The war will end soon but I don't know which side will win. We've all lost so much that I find it difficult to think of anyone being a winner. Will you watch over them for me and try to protect them? You were always so strong…"

Talking to her late father had become a tradition though she made it a habit to always say similar things. It was also habitual that she would cry when she said them to him. She missed her father and her brothers. She hoped that she would never have to miss another soul for as long as she lived.

"Your father always knew what to say to you, when you were sad," Arya turned around to face her mother as she approached. "I could never understand how my two daughters could be so different and I treated you poorly for it. But don't ever think I loved you any less. Ned though, he could look after you and your brothers properly in a way I never could. It was only after I lost him that I realised I was foolish to need him so much." Lady Catelyn sat next to Arya and looked up at the massive tree.

Chocking back her sobs, Arya leant into her mother's side as the older woman wrapped an arm around her in an embrace. "Surely you don't mean that. It's impossible to go through life without needing someone and you loved father, I know so." Arya insisted passionately. It was another example of how much she had changed, how much life had changed her from a little girl into a young Queen. The young Arya Stark would never have admitted to needing anyone and now she was fighting to convince her mother of the importance of such trust.

"One day, my love, you will understand how I am able to say such bitter things. I pray to the Old Gods and the New that you will never share my pain." The two women were silent then as they finished their own prayers. Arya waited for her mother to help her up as her growing belly hindered her.

"Do you think we could go for a walk today? Outside the castle?" Arya knew she was asking in vain, that there was no way her mother would consent to her request but still a part of her hoped.

"Do you really think that's wise? As a Queen no one will tell you what to do but that does not mean you may do as you please. It means that you must use your own senses when it comes to deciding what is good for your Kingdom." Her mother often gave her lessons on how to be a Queen though Arya detested them. She wanted to be her own type of Queen but she also knew that there was so much about politics that she didn't understand.

"I think it will do me good which, in turn, will be beneficial to the baby. Besides I not want to be the type of Queen who hides away in an ivory tower while the rest of my people suffer. Our advantage is that Gendry will be a King of the people and they will love him for it. Besides if I go with my guard then I will be safe." Her mother did not look convinced but there was very little she could do to stop her youngest daughter, as had always been the case.

"Very well then, if this means so much to you then you should go but there are conditions. Your entire guard will follow you wherever you go and your path will be decided upon before you leave so that we are aware of your location should something go wrong." Then her mother dropped the strict tone and her eyes soften dramatically. "The only thing that matters is your safety and the safety of your child. No one would bear it if we lost you."

Arya could see it then, the reason for Catelyn's intense protection. Her mother had lived through the very same situation Arya was experiencing. It was just like with Robert's Rebellion, when her father had left her mother to go and fight with his friend. She had been pregnant too with Arya's brother, Robb. She knew what Arya was feeling and she was trying to protect her, in whatever way she could. It must have been hard for her, Arya realised, to see her daughter go through one of the worst times of her life.

"Thank you mother," she said earnestly and with a smile steadily spreading across her face. The thought of exploring the beautiful lands around the castle was enough to make Arya's day and even though there were conditions to her adventure she was still happy.

The two women walked back to the castle together talking of the war and what would take place when it was over. However there were people milling around, not all of whom could be trusted completely so the conversation remained with light topics.

Arya's steps were just a little bit faster due to her excitement and she looked much happier, something which did not go unnoticed. People smiled and waved at her and she responded regally, playing the part of Queen brilliantly. Catelyn smiled, happy to see life return to Arya where she had only been grim before.

Hours later, when all the arrangements had been made, Arya set out on horseback. Crowds of people gathered around the gates of the castle, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. Cheers for the beautiful Wolf Queen of the south ran through the streets, louder than any other noise Arya could hear. Children followed her horse with adoration and Arya couldn't help but think that she could get used to being a Queen.

There had, of course been many moments when the thought of her future had made Arya tense up and quiver. Everyone expected a Queen to be ladylike and delicate and the complete opposite of who Arya was. She had tried desperately to convince everyone around her that it wasn't a good idea to put a crown on her head but in the end it was Gendry who convinced her that it wouldn't be too bad.

_It was a dark night with no moon in the sky, perfectly matching Arya's bleak mood. Her room in her uncle's castle provided her with shelter from the eyes that constantly followed her every move like vultures. They seemed to think that she couldn't hear the whispers, the ones that said she would not be a suitable Queen and that the contract between the Starks and the Baratheons should be reneged._

_ Arya Stark had dealt with many terrible things during her short life but the situation she found herself in was nothing short of her worst nightmare. The horror was that her lack of manners and etiquette were going to stop her from getting what she wanted._

_ Not that getting married was what she wanted or being a Queen; that was Sansa, not her. The truth was Gendry was her best friend and he would be good to her, not making her give up her water dancing or the things she loved. Then there was the fact that if this marriage were to fall through Arya would most likely be forced into another one, one which she would like infinitely less._

_ Robb had spoken to her about it, saying that he understood what she was going through and she supposed that he did, in a way. Before the Late Lord Frey had died both he and Arya had been arranged to marry Freys but the eldest son of Lord Waldor had released them from the contract after his father's death with the words, "War does not make for good marriages." Her brother was the only one who felt relief though as Arya knew that a marriage would still be in her future._

_ "It's not fair," she said to herself. It really wasn't, not when she was as good a warrior as her brother. Arya had always known that the married life was not for her but now she had found a way to make her destiny bearable and it still wasn't going the way she wanted. _

_ The whispers wouldn't have affected her so badly if she didn't know them to be true. Everyone was aware that she was probably the worst excuse of a lady in the whole of Westeros and that she would be a terrible Queen. She knew it too though it had never bothered her before she was told that she was going to marry Gendry._

_ There was another problem. Since the engagement had been announced Arya had seen very little of her friend. Stannis Baratheon had taken him back to Stannis' main camp and Gendry was constantly busy being taught how to be a proper King. She didn't know how he truly felt about being forced to marry her though he hadn't ended the engagement which, her mother assured her, was a good sign. Arya didn't want to disappoint him by being such a bad Queen that nobody took him seriously as a King._

_ That day had been particularly hard for the young princess. As she walked around the castle she happened to overhear some ladies talking in snobbish, uninteresting tones. On a normal day she would have kept on her journey, not willing to waste the time it took to listen in on them (which was something Bran was more prone to do). However she heard them mention Gendry and she thought it would be nice to report back to her betrothed if they said nice things (he was always worrying about what people thought of him)._

_ "It doesn't matter that he's Robert's bastard though, does it? He's going to sit on the Iron Throne and he'll be a King and the Baratheon line will continue through him and that Stark girl. It really is a shame that she's going to be the Queen."_

_ "I know, isn't it? The other day I saw her speaking with some of her brother's men and she was swearing even worse than they were. You would almost swear she had no breeding at all."_

_ "Isn't she pathetic with her 'lessons' it's not as though she'll ever be a proper lady."_

_ Arya backed away quickly and silently, surprised by how much their words had hurt. She didn't know who those girls were or why she was fleeing from them she just knew that she had to get away so she could get her feelings together. They didn't matter, not really but their words had cut straight through to many of Arya's insecurities. Sansa would have been a much better Queen, one everyone would have loved, with her courtesies and such._

_ She hadn't told anyone about what she had heard though she was sure her family suspected something was amiss. Robb had tried making jokes and reminiscing about happier times they had as children. Her mother had encouraged her to practise her water dancing again, although she did so grudgingly. Arya had smiled at her attempts but she couldn't get the things she had heard to leave her mind._

_ Feigning a headache she had returned to her room and sat on her featherbed. Her mother might have been able to comfort her but once again Arya felt unable to go to her. Time had changed Arya from a tomboyish girl into a stone-faced killer and she didn't want her mother to see the change and truly realise that all hope was lost for her youngest daughter._

_ A knocked sounded through the room but it wouldn't have been loud enough to disturb her if there was been even the slightest of other noise. Slowly, Arya rose to her feet, pushing back her doubts and getting ready to pretend. _

_She had small expectations, knowing it was more than likely her mother or Robb or someone who wanted her to do something. So when she opened the door and revealed her tall, black haired and blue eyed fiancé, her breath left her quickly. Gendry smiled at her shock and walked into her room without another word. Arya moved her gaze between him and the hallway, not saying anything before shaking her head and closing the door behind him._

"_I'm aware that you haven't been a Lord for very long but even a stupid Bull should know that it's not proper for a man to be in a ladies room unaccompanied." They both knew that she cared not for what was proper and the smile that spread across her face showed just how happy she was to see him. _

_Gendry sat down on her bed and patted the area beside him, presumably asking her to come and sit next to him. He looked happier, more confident and much cleaner. Even Arya had to admit, albeit stubbornly, that he was handsome, maybe even in the same way Sansa's knights were supposed to be. He was dressed very nicely too, far nicer than any other blacksmith in all of the Seven Kingdoms._

"_Since when have you cared about what was proper? The Arya Stark I know would probably do the very opposite of what was expected of her status just to prove that she could." They laughed together at his statement as it was absurdly correct. Arya moved across the room and sat down next to her best friend, all thoughts of the opinions of silly ladies long forgotten._

"_Tell me what life is like in the camp of the mighty Stannis Baratheon. Have you turned into a perfumed Lord yet or are you still a stupid Bull?" To anyone else her words may have appeared cruel but to him it was merely their usual way of talking, even if it was one only they understood._

"_It's hectic and there's so much for me to learn. Stannis grows weaker every day and I am expected to take over his responsibilities before too long." Gendry had been legitimised by his uncle, Stannis Baratheon when the latter had realised that Melissandre's magic had come at a terrible price. His life was connected to the red sorcerers' involvement and when he had sent her away his health had begun to deteriorate. It was common knowledge that Stannis was not long for the world hence he had found his heir in his bastard nephew._

"_I'm sure you'll despise being a King when the time comes, probably more than I ever hated being a lady. Still, my father used to say that our duty will not always be to our liking but that does not mean that we should not to it as well as we could. I think, at the time, he only wanted me to try a little harder with my sewing but I believe his words could also be a guide for you."_

"_You know more of this than I do and I'm sure you won't let me make large political blunders when we are married." _

_It was only the briefest mention really, nothing certain or probing about his words. It was the first time either of them had mentioned their upcoming marriage in the other's presence and both of them seemed shocked that the words had appeared at all. Gendry looked embarrassed and Arya didn't know what to say, repressing the urge to call Gendry stupid again._

_Gendry seemed to be the one to take initiative. "We haven't spoken about that, have we? You most likely hate me for forcing you to do the thing you fear the most…"_

"_I don't fear anything!" She snapped at him indignantly. "And I don't hate you, it's not as though this is something you wanted." Gendry looked away from her with an expression of guilt on his face but Arya chose not to dwell on that. "If you're going to be a King then you need someone who's not afraid to tell you when you're being an idiot. I can't let you get fat, either, like King Robert otherwise everyone will laugh at you."_

_They chuckled together, like old friends in the dark. After spending much of the night discussing the many things that had happened in their new lives, Arya finally revealed what she had heard that day. She only meant for it to be a light topic of conversation but Gendry seemed to sense that it upset her more than she let on._

"_Listen to me, Arya Stark. It doesn't matter to me whether or not you can stitch some stupid piece of fabric or whether you know all for curtsies or whatever they're called. All those women are conniving snakes who have to use their words as weapons to hurt people but you, you are forthright and honest and if someone tries to do something against you all you have to do is run them through with your sword."_

"_I won't be a good Queen, I don't know how to. You would be better off marrying my sister, everyone knows that and you could keep the Baratheon alliance with Robb. Everything would be better for everyone if you married her." She couldn't stop the desperate words from spilling out against her will. Having Gendry marry Sansa was not what she wanted but she felt it would be best for her friend. And Sansa had always wanted someone just like Gendry._

"_I don't want her though, I want you Arya." She wasn't expecting him to kiss her or anything like that but that's exactly what he did. He took control of her, moving his hands so they could support her, one around her hip and the other caressing her shoulder. Knowledge of what she should do fled from Arya as she struggled desperately to remember where she should put her hands or how she should move her mouth. It was over very quickly though she was sure she enjoyed it immensely._

_After that she no longer mentioned whether or not she would make a good Queen because whenever she did Gendry always found a way of making her shut up._

But now Gendry was gone and Arya was left with all of her doubts with no one to assure her that everything would be alright. There were nice moments; riding through the streets where everyone seemed to love her was nice as was being able to boss around all of the ladies who thought they were better than her. Still she missed her husband.

The horse she was riding was beautiful. He was a deep chestnut with a dark chocolate mane. Her commands were obeyed instantly though he was not skittish and Arya felt very safe atop such a competent horse. Her guards did not seem quite as comfortable but Arya was able to ignore them except for the thought of how funny they looked as they tried to stay balanced while wearing all their heavy armour.

They rode to the edge of the small town and Arya could smell the pine of the trees so close to her. It was a picturesque landscape, both magnificent and foreboding. "Your Grace," one of the guards asked from behind her, nervously. "We should stay away from the forest; there are too many dangers for the few of us to take care of. It is an unnecessary risk."

On a better day Arya may have agreed with them, for the baby's sake but the forest was where she had found Robb again and she felt like there as something there she needed to find. Turning to the guards she said, "I would like to get closer to the forest, Ser. However if you do not wish to come then that is your choice, I will not think any less of you." With that she moved her horse into a gallop, racing towards her destination.

Soon enough she was deep within the lush green trees and even though she knew that her mother was going to give her a lecture it was worth it to feel so free. She remembered sneaking into the forest outside Winterfell, to follow Jon and Robb when they went to hunt. At first it had been scary, knowing that there was no one who knew she was there but then she would catch up to them and they would smile and laugh and teach her exactly what to do if she wanted to catch a plump rabbit.

When she thought back, Arya realised that a forest represented so many different moments in her life. She had grown up in the forest of Winterfell, acting very much the wild animal so many believed her to be. Then there was the time when she had been forced to chase Nymeria away because of that stupid prick Joffrey and lastly the forest was where she trekked through with Gendry and Hot Pie and was finally reunited with her brother. Memories both good and bad surrounded her just like the dark forest.

"Don't worry, baby," she whispered while she moved her hand to cradle her belly. "Daddy's going to come back and everything is going to be alright. You'll be able to go hunting in the forest and I'll teach you everything you need to know and we'll always be around to protect you. I promise," she said thinking of her father.

Eddard Stark was a good man, honourable and someone who cared about his family. Arya had loved him so much and had always wanted to make him proud even though she wasn't able to act like a proper lady, like Sansa. Yet when she had heard those men discussing her father, saying that if one hand could die so could another. She had been scared then; just a child and she didn't know what awaited her and her family. She wouldn't let history repeat itself; she wouldn't let her baby grow up without a father even if she had to kill every single Lannister herself.

A rustling drew her attention away from her baby as she tried to determine what had made the sound before disregarding it as unimportant. Her guards were probably searching desperately for her and Arya knew she should try to find them once more before she ran into something that wanted to eat her.

The rustling started again, louder this time and more certain. Arya could pinpoint the direction the sound came from and that whatever made it as moving towards her rather quickly. Her horse, with nerves of steel seemed to lose his wits and began bucking and neighing very loudly. Arya chose to dismount and take her chances with whatever was coming for her rather than to risk falling from her horse and hurting the baby.

She tried, really tried to keep hold of the reigns in her hands but she simply could not. Her horse ran away very quickly and Arya could do little other than watch it disappear. Arya liked to pretend that she was fearless most of the time but her heart was beating quickly and she was beginning to sweat. _Stop it, _she thought to herself. _Fear cuts deeper than swords._

Arya wished she brought Needle, she always felt much better when she was holding the last gift Jon Snow had given her. Gendry had offered to forge a new sword for her, one that suited her new size better but Arya refused to part with her beloved weapon.

A shadow began to approach her as Arya struggled to keep still and decide what she should do and how she was going to protect herself. Her final action was to climb onto a branch of a nearby tree. She could have climbed higher if she had more time but she contented herself with the small bit of protection she had managed to provide for herself. All the while she thought of how painfully her mother was going to kill her for running off.

The wolves approached in a pack of three monsters, smaller than a direwolf but large enough to be deadly. They sniffed her out quickly, crowding around her and Arya knew that if she faltered for even a moment then everything would be lost. Looking around she saw that there was no way for her to climb any higher from where she was so she contented herself with hoping for her guards to find her before something bad happened.

She could hear their angry growls and their thirst for her blood. They were like Nymeria or her brothers' wolves; these wanted her in a way that chilled her to the bone. It was right, a Stark dying from a wolf attack would be the worst thing that could happen to her family. She was a wolf and she would not be killed by one.

Whatever Gods that existed she prayed to, whether they were her mother's Gods or her father's. For long minutes her prayers went unanswered and Arya despaired, once again losing herself within her own desire for survival. They jumped, their legs moving fluidly and in perfect synchronisation. Their mouth got close enough that a scream was wretched from Arya's mouth. Her mantra, _fear cuts deeper than swords, _grew less comforting the closer the wolves came.

"Please," it was her God now, the God of Death and there was only one thing she could beg for, "Not today, not now."

She didn't believe in miracles, miracles didn't save her father, nor protect her sister from the lion's den. So when there was a terrible growl, one that shook the very earth to the depths of its core, Arya assumed that her end was coming for her.

But some God had chosen to listen to her and she was spared that day.

A brilliant blur bounded into the fray, resulting in a flurry of snarls and scrapes. The fight continued until the wolves were battling the mysterious creature against Arya's tree, causing it to shake violently. Arya had to cling on for dear life, clenching her eyes shut so she could concentrate. She had no clue what the wolves were fighting, she was only glad that she seemed to be relatively forgotten.

Arya could not have said how long she was there for, how long she waited for it to be over. She kept expecting her guards to swoop in and find her but they didn't come so her imagination filled in the gaps of what was happening on the ground, with terrifying results.

Suddenly the sounds of the fight faded until the only noises being made were the sounds of retreat. The wolves were leaving, having been defeated by a creature stronger than even them. Arya still didn't want to open her eyes, could open her eyes because she didn't know how she'd be able to face this new threat.

Then a howl broke through the silence, a familiar howl, one Arya would know in her sleep. It was the howl of a direwolf, the howl of _her _direwolf. She opened her eyes and turned to face her rescuer, whispering a single word.

"_Nymeria."_


End file.
